Biggles Cocks a Snoot

Arriving at Dapdune Wharf at lunchtime on the Thursday, and with the weather still a glorious summer’s day, we were soon joined by Tom & Glenys, who wanted a look round the boat and a National Trust Cafe lunch.

We had just finished the guided tour and tea aboard when Cheryl & Jim (the aforementioned friends of the Lock Keeper’s wife at Trigg’s Lock) turned up bearing wine, chocolate brownies and nibbles, and demanding a guided tour with extreme prejudice…

Cheryl, Jim, Fran & Beer

With all the food, teas, beer and wine, not to mention adoration of the Captain, we didn’t feel much like dinner, but a stroll into town found an amenable tapas bar for a final snack.

During a final late evening stroll around the by now deserted wharf, Biggles decided to thumb his nose at the National Trust rules, and climb aboard the dockside crane; Fran joined him. His excuse was that (a) he hadn’t brought his reading glasses and (b) he was looking for the pesky magpies

 Biggles walking the craneBiggles and a heavy weight

Friday morning saw a Farcebook post from Frank Ingnobody’s friend and Guildford resident Lawrence Heath, who’d been walking along the navigation yesterday and spotted us. More fancy electronic communication ensued and we discovered that he was having coffee in an establishment right next to M&S, where the Song & Dance crew were planning on visiting, so a quick nip to the shops proved rather more protracted… Lawrence & Lynn’s son Liam is an Olympic medal winner, and they were trying to work out how they could afford to go the the Rio Olympics, the costs being even more extortionate than in the UK (and that’s before you take into account the air fares).

Although we could have stayed another night at Dapdune – it’s tucked out of the way behind the Cricket Club grounds and normally quiet – that evening and on the Saturday, there was going to be a large Beer Festival, and given the noise from a private / setting up party the Thursday night, we decided to set sail late Friday afternoon for a quieter spot, ending up at the perfect mooring found on the way down, near Send Church Bridge and the Sutton Place estate. Sometimes it’s nice  being in the middle of town, but it’s usually nicer out in the countryside somewhere…

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